One Stop For Writers Novels & Stories

I had no choice but to become the partner of a mafia boss with an incubus bloodline when his heat cycle began. To my surprise, Lionel Andrus and I got along better than I ever imagined. Every night, he held me close, craving more of me, as if we were made for each other. But right before we got our marriage license, my jealous sister, Tracy Rowe, tried to talk me out of it. "Incubi are born flirts," she warned. "How do you know you're his only woman? Once he's bored, he'll toss you aside." In my last life, I had believed her. I called off my engagement with Lionel and, through her introduction, married a "nice guy" named Jamie Stephenson. After we married, Jamie cheated on me and gave me STDs. Desperate, I went to Tracy's house to ask for help. She turned me away with disgust. "You couldn't control your husband and ended up sick, and you actually came asking me for money? How dare you! You have no self-respect. You don't deserve to be my sister!" Right then, she publicly cut ties with me. Even our parents sided with her, calling me a disgrace and refusing to let me step inside the house. In the end, I couldn't take the pain anymore and ended up hanging myself. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the very day Tracy told me not to marry Lionel.

Sia Bennett thought meeting the ruthless Summit Alpha was just a formality. Until she smelled him. Cedar, gunpowder, and pure, unadulterated sin. Kaelen Voss is her Fated Mate. He is also her mother's fiancé. By day, Kaelen plays the role of the cold, distant stepfather. But by night, he invades her personal space, his dark whispers and stolen touches pushing her to the madness. "Be a good girl, Sia," he warns, his hand sliding dangerously high up her thigh under the family dinner table. "And don't let Mommy hear you scream." Caught between loyalty to her mother and a mate bond that demands mate's love, Sia is fighting a losing battle. Because in this house, the Alpha always eats first.

Suddenly Zeva Adelia, a freelance photographer, got a client who expressed his interest in her after spending a day together on the first day they met. However, without clarifying what their relationship was and only introducing his name as Zero, the next day Zero immediately returned to his country. He left only a trail of his handmade sketch of Zeva's face and a tiny letter asking Zeva to keep her heart's loyalty to him only. Strangely enough, by only communicating via chat, even without video or phone calls, Zeva feels that Zero has succeeded in conquering her heart. Then, can Zeva undergo a status-less relationship and a long-distance relationship with Zero? How long can Zeva endure waiting for Zero to come back for her? Also, how much does Zeva trust Zero's loyalty to her, when there's another girl like 24/7 beside Zero?

I ran into my boss when I was complaining to my best friend about how he actively made the workplace hostile for me. He fired off a barrage of questions, "Where's the annual report? Where's the script for the speech? I can't believe you have the gall to enjoy a meal when you have a mountain of work to do!" That was it. I slammed the table. "It's due tomorrow! What's the rush? Are you going to hold a funeral for yourself tomorrow?" My boss stormed off in a huff. I asked for the bill, but the waiter came with two. My table came up to 60 dollars, but the other ran up to 3,750. "Your boyfriend said you're paying for both. Cash or credit, miss?" Shawn Goodall put that impossible bill on my tab and called himself my boyfriend? Unbelievable! I called him, utterly incensed. Yet, he had the gall to say, "Get the receipt and claim it from finance." Then, he hung up. The waiter was going to call the cops if I didn't pay up, so I had no choice but to accept this bitter defeat. I was trying to claim the money the next day, but the cops arrested me instead. "Shawn Goodall died at midnight and was found in his house. You're his girlfriend and the last person he met. You're coming with us."

When the half-mile sprint test is about to begin, Quiana Sullivan, the class president, and I have applied to be exempted from it. My own mother, who's the homeroom teacher of my class, approves Quiana's application with a smile. But she then throws mine to the floor. "You're having a chest pain, you say? I can't believe you're able to come up with such lies just to avoid the half-mile sprint! I'd have known if you had a heart condition! "Quiana is weak by nature, not to mention she's on her period right now, so she can't handle the agony. What about you, hmm? You've always been perfectly healthy, yet now you're telling me that you're suffering from heart pain? "Don't go around embarrassing me just because you want to slack off! I don't want others claiming that I'm being biased toward my own child! As long as you're still alive and kicking, you must finish the half-mile course no matter what!" Left without a choice, I can only return to the field. The cold wind makes me feel even dizzier now. My heart keeps contracting uncontrollably against my will. Suddenly, it just stops pumping. The next thing I know, I collapse onto the grassy field heavily. When my consciousness is about to flicker to darkness, my mom finally walks over to me. But she merely kicks my arm with a frown on her face, and her tone remains glacial. "Stop playing dead. Get up right now." She doesn't realize that I can never open my eyes ever again. Isn't this great, Mom? No one will ever claim that you're biased toward your own child. I've used my life to prove how fair and just you are. You must be happy now, right?

My husband, Malcolm Thorpe, has low sperm motility. After 33 rounds of IVF, I finally got pregnant. On delivery day, I start hemorrhaging, and the medical team calls for an emergency C-section. Malcolm signs the consent form, then rushes straight back to his childhood sweetheart's birthday party. But instead of starting the C-section, the surgeon says, "Ms. Jacobson, the electronic medical record lists you as single. This consent form isn't valid." I stop breathing for a beat. The happy marriage I believe in turns out to be a sham. Later, Mom and Dad rush in and sign the consent for me. But by then, the baby is gone. The asphyxia lasted too long. After surgery, I scrawl my name on the cremation consent with shaking hands, then dial a number without thinking. "Samuel, are you free now? Meet me in front of City Hall."

Maude Ellington's fiance sends a message to his first love before their wedding. "You've always been the one I wanted to marry." With their wedding fast approaching, Maude watches him meticulously plan every detail with his first love in mind. She quietly lets it all go. Because she no longer wants the wedding. And she no longer wants him.

I'm in a secret marriage with Jessica Justice, a female CEO, for eight years. In order to please Cole Miller, Jessica has almost gotten divorced with me 99 times so far. The first time she brings up divorce, it's because my socks' colors are mismatched. The second time she does, she claims that the way I mop the floor is too ugly. … The reason of the 98th divorce is that I step through the doorway with my left foot first. Every time divorce is brought up, I'll always beg Jessica to not go through with it in an extremely lowly and humble manner. After that, I'll accept her condition to get back with me, which is always a punishment. Apparently, my pain and suffering is the only thing that can make Cole smile. The punishments range from washing Cole's feet to eating 100 slices of mango—which I'm very allergic to—and getting sent to the ICU as a result. This time, since Cole is in a bad mood, Jessica decides to go with a thrilling punishment. "As long as you can climb up a tower of 6500 feet without wearing a safety line, I will never bring up divorce in front of you ever again." All color has been drained from my face. Still, I nod while gritting my teeth together. But the next day, Jessica brings up divorce to me for the 100th time. The reason is that Cole has climbed 6499 feet just to please her. But apparently I've climbed an extra foot, so I end up stealing his thunder. This time, I no longer plead to her to stay. Instead, I tell my grandpa that I agree to inherit my family's assets that are worth ten billion dollars. Heck, the number of socialites who yearn to marry me can line up to the moon and back.

In the seventh year of dating Lorenzo Townsend, he still didn't want to marry me. One day, I said to him, "Lorenzo, I'm getting married." He frowned slightly, not even sure if he heard me right. "The company is going public, and we're swamped. This is not the time to discuss such an insignificant topic," he said. I smiled calmly. Maybe to him, it seemed like I was pushing him to marry me. But the truth was, I was getting married, but not to him.